


First Day of Christmas - Oh, Christmas Tree

by unjaundiced



Series: Holiday Headaches [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, 12 Days of Fic, Canon Divergence, Gen, Humor, bad friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5630344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unjaundiced/pseuds/unjaundiced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the first movie, Ninja Clash in the Land of Snow. Kakashi returns from his mission to Snow with the introduction to an odd new holiday. He decides to inflict it upon his reluctant friend, Umino Iruka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Day of Christmas - Oh, Christmas Tree

**Oh, ~~Christmas~~ ~~Holiday~~  Tree**

* * *

 

Iruka adjusted the strap on his satchel and sighed, tugging up the worn edge of his scarf at the same time. It wasn't an unusually cold December, but it was unseasonably damp. The air itself had a wet chill that clung to clothes and snuck into boots to cast a cold shadow over unsuspecting toes. All in all, it was a bit disconcerting and not at all welcome. All he really wanted to do after a long day of settling mud fights and issuing out someone's twisted ideals of detention—not his, honest! Ibiki was the one who set the disciplinary measures. He called it “character building”—was go home and indulge in a hot cup of tea. He could almost smell the earthy aroma of the delicate tea leaves, feel the warmth of the cup in his hands. He smiled and picked up his pace, happy to escape the outdoors.  
  
The day hadn't been all bad. It had been a good normal day in class. Konohamaru had been trying to cut a hole in the side wall to create a hidden escape portal while Udon had sniffled and stuttered something or other. Hanabi had just ignored the world as usual, pinning Iruka with that somber and unsettling stare of hers. To be honest, Konohamaru probably would have made good his escape, so entranced was Iruka with telling himself that he was indeed not afraid of a nine-year-old girl, except that Naruto had chosen that very moment to make a very loud and very obvious return from his month long mission to Snow Country by barreling in through the door bearing souvenirs of some actress—princess—actress-princess—some person that Iruka didn't know—and screaming Konohamaru's name which had immediately reminded Iruka that his new number one problem student needed to be checked on at least once every half-minute; a fact he had rectified with a terrific vengeance.  
  
Seeing Naruto back safe and made Iruka feel warm and fuzzy for approximately 1.3 seconds. That was how long it took for the first mud ball to fly. Apparently Naruto had also brought back souvenir _snow_ which had melted and turned to water, which in turn he'd decided to mix with some souvenir _dirt_ to save on space and had decided to deliver first class express courier mail-nin style to the back of Konohamaru's head. The rest of the day had descended into chaos until a screaming Sakura and grumbling Sasuke had appeared to whisk away their suddenly endangered teammate as Iruka had met the last leg of his less than legendary patience and issued a third-class detention on everyone in the room—toilet scrubbing with boar-bristle brushes. The students had to catch the boar and make the brush handles first.  
  
That being said, Iruka decided to overlook the fact that the doorknob to his flat turned a little too easily under his hand. He let his eyes slide over the familiar and uninvited pair of boots that sat neatly in the genkan. He serenely ignored the battered rucksack that leaned against the umbrella rack, Konoha standard beige scarf draped neatly over the rounded handles of the umbrellas, dripping as it released its damp onto his nicely polished wood floor. He tried his best to ignore the odd trail of pine needles that speckled a trail down the hall as he bent to unzip his boots. He left his satchel next to the rucksack and padded down the hallway in his socks, careful to avoid the litter. He made it all the way to his main living area where the sharp smell of pine wafted through the air and smacked him in the face. He blinked at the squat kuromatsu now sitting happily in his home, branches quivering as it lazed about in its pot. At its base, a familiar bushy head of gray hair waved back and forth as Kakashi engaged in some rather lively conversation with his new tree friend.  
  
Iruka turned around, made his way back to the doorway, slipped on his boots and left. Five minutes later, something akin to a typhoon tore through Training Ground #32 and passing ANBU made a report that a demon had been sighted in the area. The raccoon living at the fringes of the training ground's clearing learned to fear scarecrows and pine trees for the rage they instilled in Academy instructors.  
  
Iruka returned home in a state approaching the serenity of an enlightened bosatsu. Passing villagers bowed to him in greeting, choosing to say nothing of the wood splinters that speckled his hair. He passed Kurenai who was busy not-being-seen with Asuma and did not greet them or look startled when Kurenai did not point out the smear of mud that streaked defiantly across his right cheek. He also did not see Ebisu shadowing him from a crafty distance, muttering to himself all the while. The whole journey home was a bit of a blur anyhow.  
  
The doorknob still turned easily under his hand—a good thing since Iruka had left without the key. The uninvited visitor's boots were still in the genkan, battered rucksack still keeping his worn-looking satchel company. Kakashi's scarf still dripped upon his floor with blatant determination to do water damage to its innocent victim. The needles still marked an epileptic trail down the hallway and the smell of pine was a little more distinct. He sighed in resignation and toed off his boots before making his way back to his newly adorned living area.  
  
“—really is a good person. I'm telling you now. You'll like it here,” Kakashi was saying as Iruka came around the corner and gaped. There were practice weapons of all sorts laid out on tables and books, all excessively tiny; the ones used to acquaint toddlers with their coming tools of trade.  
  
“Kakashi-sensei,” Iruka barked out unintentionally, wincing as his cool slipped.  
  
“Iruka-sensei! Okaeri!” Kakashi waved a blunt miniature kunai in his general direction. Next to him, Ukki-san shook its leaves in accord.  
  
“Kakashi-sensei. How many times have I told you—Breaking and entering someone's home, without permission, for a social visit is considered a crime in most places.” Iruka sighed. It was a well-visited topic of conversation.  
  
“I didn't break anything,” Kakashi pouted. “I have a key.”  
  
“ _Stealing_ a key from me to make a copy is _also_ normally considered a crime among friends,” Iruka grumbled as he crossed his arms and glared as menacingly as he could. Kakashi only arched his eye in that odd smile of his.  
  
“I'm glad we are such close friends then, Iruka-sensei.” Kakashi smiled before gesturing broadly at the kuromatsu politely awaiting introduction. “This is Shisha-kun. Greet him properly so he feels welcome.”  
  
Iruka grit his teeth at being ordered around in his own home. He chose to ignore the quivering pine for a moment and addressed his attention to Kakashi who was busy juggling tiny dull shuriken at that point.  
  
“What did I tell you about bringing friends of Ukki-san's over here? Why are _you_ even here!” Iruka snapped  
  
“Ah, so we've reached the crux of the problem. If I tell you, will you greet Shisha-kun properly? You're making him feel bad,” Kakashi murmured thoughtfully as he patted at the trunk of the pine.  
  
“Do go on,” Iruka ground out, feeling his patience bleed away with every word.  
  
“You see, there was this mission to Snow,” Kakashi began obliquely as he began to hook tiny caltrops on Shisha-kun's branches.  
  
“Yes, you were just on it. I _know_. I had the mud balls to prove it.”  
  
“Mud... what?” Kakashi blinked. “Well that would explain your face.”  
  
“My... My face?” Iruka turned with a slow-dawning horror to a rather convenient mirror hanging on one of the hallway walls, just at an angle to eliminate the blind corner leading towards his room. It was then that he realised just how much of a crisis-refugee look he had adopted. Wood splinters and shattered leaves nested in his hair as if a crazed sparrow had decided to make house. Mud streaked across his cheeks in savage tribal markings. Spatters of red river clay clung to his vest like clotted blood. Grey clay silt was starting to set in as a rather cakey powder on his jumper, turning it a rather attractive grey-blue.  
  
“I'm guessing no one mentioned it to you, hm?” Kakashi appeared over Iruka's shoulder in the mirror as he blandly cataloged the damage.  
  
“I'm blaming today on you,” Iruka shouted accusingly as he strode off towards the bathroom to wash his face and upgrade his appearance to that of someone who was helping refugees rather than being one himself. Kakashi just smiled and waved at his retreating back, chuckling with smug self-satisfaction.  
  
Somewhere between the soap and the water, Iruka forgot that he was irritated with Kakashi and his uninvited visitations as he mentally retraced his footsteps and tried to remember who had seen him looking like an escapee from the bowels of the Torture  & Interrogation psych ward. He had been staring blankly at the mirror over the sink long enough that the water dried on his skin and Kakashi had made his way back to see what was taking him.  
  
“The living room's on fire,” Kakashi muttered. Iruka jerked and pushed past him in startled worry. A pair of rather happy plants shook at in him greeting as he bustled into the living room.  
  
“Just joking,” Kakashi sing-songed as he wandered by. Iruka glared a violent doom at his back, vividly imagining impalement by sharp and pointy objects.  
  
“You still haven't told me about the tree,” the chuunin muttered in aggravated annoyance as he crouched by Shisha-kun to inspect the preening tree.  
  
“Maa, it has to do with Snow—if you would be so kind as to avoid further interruption,” Kakashi murmured, oblivious to the glare Iruka shot his way. “Did you know there's something called Christmas in another country?”  
  
“Christmas? Is that a place in Rain?” Iruka wracked his brain for a reference.  
  
“No, no. Christmas is apparently an introduction of those foreign traders that come in off the coast of Wave. Jesuit missionaries have really taken hold along the borders of Snow and Christmas is some holiday of theirs that takes place around this time of year, starting today apparently. It involves a lot of singing and pine trees. It's a little weird, but Naruto really liked the snacks they made. They make something called ginger bread, which Naruto liked a lot, but I couldn't find any ginger in it.  
  
“In any case. It looked like it would be a lot of fun—something different anyway. So... I found Shisha-kun in the Forest of Death and decided to share with you. You like learning about new things, right?” Kakashi had the nerve to look proud of himself. Iruka gaped for a moment, then sighed. There was no following Kakashi's logic. His excuses had excuses which had kage-passes for higher levels of classified excuses.  
  
“That doesn't explain all of this,” he gestured at the array of miniature weaponry. “Part of Christmas is teaching small children? Is there an agility test?”  
  
“Ah.... That's for Shisha-kun. He wanted to look pretty.”  
  
Iruka sighed in a much-aggrieved manner as Kakashi pressed a steaming cup of tea from who knows where into his hands. He should have known better than to ask a jounin. At least he finally had his tea.  
  
“By the way,” he murmured, drowsily sedated by his new leafy love. “If your scarf damages my floor at all, I'll tear your intestines out as a demonstration to other jounin and use them to decorate Shisha-kun for Christmas.”  
  
He received no response, but a swift displacement of air and the sudden appearance of said damp scarf hanging on the indoor laundry line over the ofuro made him smile.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> These were originally written for the 12 Days of Christmas Challenge on Livejournal in 2010, starting with the first day of Christmas (December 25). Traditionally, the twelve days of Christmas start on Christmas day, signified by the lighting of the Yule log on the eve of the 24th at midnight, just as it becomes the 25th, and carries on until January 5th. It's basically all crack and I apologise for nothing.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Mele Kalikimaka e Hauʻoli Makahiki Hou!
> 
>  
> 
> **Vocab Notes**  
>  Genkan - traditional Japanese entryway areas for a house, apartment, or building—something of a combination of a porch and a doormat
> 
> Kuromatsu – Pinus thunbergii (Syn: Pinus thunbergiana; English: Japanese Black Pine, Japanese Pine, Black Pine) is a pine native to coastal areas of Japan (Kyūshū, Shikoku and Honshū, but not Hokkaidō) and South Korea.
> 
> Bosatsu – Japanese for Bodhisattva; either an enlightened (bodhi) existence (sattva) or an enlightenment-being or, given the variant Sanskrit spelling satva rather than sattva, "heroic-minded one (satva) for enlightenment (bodhi)." Another term is "wisdom-being." It is anyone who, motivated by great compassion, has generated bodhicitta, which is a spontaneous wish to attain Buddhahood for the benefit of all sentient beings.
> 
> Shisha - means “emissary” or “envoy”. Essentially a messenger.
> 
> Okaeri(nasai) - “Welcome back” but more of a standard response to “tadaima” or “I'm back”. Both don't really mean those things so much as they are something one says when returning [home] even if there is no one else present.
> 
> Ofuro – a deep tub either with a shower attachment or next to a tiled platform where showers are taken.


End file.
